What I Spent This Weekend: Sober Fridays Are Dangerous

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When I read Will and Victoria’s submissions to this challenge, I knew I had join in. My usual financial planning consists of never checking my bank account under the guide of ignorance being bliss but, for once, I decided to actually tally up my weekend costs and see what I’m spending on. Turns out it’s mostly booze and food, as I always suspected. Let’s dive in.

Friday

What I Spent:

– Train, $5
– Physical Therapy session, $35.00

I took the train to work as I do every day, and my only real expense was my physical therapy session, which cost me a cool thirty-five bucks to have some dude name Jake do his best to tear my leg off for an hour. Other than that, I didn’t do shit. Nice little Friday.

How I Saved

Uhh, every way possible? Despite just getting paid two days ago, I was fiscally responsible as hell. I used public transportation, ate the catered Greek food we had in the office for lunch, and was boring as fuck after work. It was #PastaFriday, so obviously I made a giant plate of rigatoni with meat sauce for dinner with ingredients I bought on Monday. Also, it was freezing in Chicago, and I was spent after walking a few blocks without crutches for the first time in three weeks, so I made the executive decision to stay in for the night. Basically, I lived like a hermit.

Where I Should Have Saved:

Nowhere. Financially, I crushed it on Friday. I have no regrets, but I do have a deep-seeded anger at how expensive health care is in this country.

Saturday

What I Spent:

– Beers and burgers at Fatpour in Wicker Park, $50.00
– Uber, $14.60
– Burrito House, $13.68
– Partial payment on a bottle of Jameson, $10.00-ish?

As it so often happens, all I did by staying in on Friday is make myself even more prone to getting after it on Saturday. And get after it I did. It was cold and shitty out, so my friend group made the obvious decision to get drunk and watch college football all day. We started off at a sports bar I used to work at called Fatpour where I consumed probably 10,000 calories in food and drinks. I ate a disgustingly large burger (with two grilled cheeses as the buns), and drank as many Coors Lights as the waitress would give me. I also covered my girlfriend’s food and drink, because I am a good boyfriend think I’m a millionaire once alcohol touches my lips.

I seamlessly parlayed this aggressive day-drinking session into an Irish exit, where I grabbed my girlfriend and jumped into a waiting Uber before my friends even realized I was gone. We got dropped off at a quaint little establishment down the street from my place called Burrito House, where I bought us both the greasiest burritos they had. I used the fuel from my carbo-loading to have sensual, shirts-on sex and then immediately passed the fuck out for a couple hours. After waking up at 9 p.m., I made my way to my buddy’s house, where I continued taking shots and generally abusing my broken body until I blacked out. Pretty standard Saturday.

How I Saved:

In what may have been my only smart decision of the day, I went to the bar I used to work at and I guess was likable enough that my coworkers hooked me up with the 50%-off employee discount. I also saved by dating a girl that covered the Uber to my buddy’s place and by having friends that were cool with being handed a handful of crumpled ones in exchange for drinking all their liquor.

How I Should Have Saved:

Perhaps, instead of eating at a restaurant literally a block away from my apartment, I could have made food at said apartment. I can’t even use the “too drunk to cook” excuse since my freezer is stocked with frozen pizzas and corndogs, because I apparently identify as a 13-year-old boy. Unfortunately, logic doesn’t exist to a hungry drunk.

Sunday

What I Spent: 

– Online gambling, $10.00
– Orange Garden Chinese Food, $28.10

As is my Sunday tradition, I did nothing but lie on my couch for 10 consecutive hours and soak myself in a brain bath of football. I had the Pats game on the big TV, as well as two laptops streaming an auxiliary game and Redzone, respectively. As I do every week, I bet ten bucks on a five-game parlay that pays out around $240. It’s a big enough reward to satisfy my gambling addiction, and a small enough risk that when it inevitably doesn’t hit every week, it doesn’t break the bank. I also dropped what some may call “an unnecessary amount of money” on orange chicken, black pepper beef, and hot and sour soup, delivered to my house. Say what you will, but Chinese food is the best hangover cure out there.

How I Saved:

I don’t know if most could count gambling as “saving,” but I’m taking the fact that I only flushed ten bucks down the drain as a win. I didn’t even put any money on the college games, which was less a conscious effort to be financially responsible, and more me admitting defeat. I don’t know shit about college ball, and after going 0/10 in bets this year, I’m taking a little break to get my confidence back.

How I Should Have Saved:

I should have known the Eli Fucking Manning was going to fuck me again. It seemed like Chiefs should have handily whooped the 1-8 Giants and covered the spread, but once again, that piece of shit team found a way to screw me with a stupid circus catch. Fuck the entire city of New York. I hate myself.

I suppose I also could have saved, once again, by eating any of the food I have in the house instead of dropping close to $40 on extremely average Chinese food. At the very least, I probably could have walked the ten minutes to go pick it up, but as I previously stated, I was pretty committed to not leaving my couch.

Total: $166.38

Honestly, not as bad as it could have been. The fact that it was miserable outside helped offset the fact that this was my first weekend being able to hit the bars since my surgery, and turned into a pretty tame weekend overall. My liver hurts, but my bank account is doing okay. .

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Nick Arcadia

The opposite of a life coach. Email or DM me if you want some bad advice: nickarcadiapgp@gmail.com

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